


How to Salvage a Terrible Date

by jtjenna (pornographicpenguin)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Bad date, Blowjobs, M/M, jean and eren fight like children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-17 17:23:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3537776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pornographicpenguin/pseuds/jtjenna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You're not even trying to save this date, are you?”</p><p>Jean raises his eyebrows. “Could I save it?”</p><p>“Probably not,” Eren says. “You're kind of a dick.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Salvage a Terrible Date

**Author's Note:**

> saw this post the other day and decided to run with this prompt:
> 
> We’re going on a blind date - but wait a moment, aren’t you that went down on me in a back alley behind a club year ago? … what do you mean “which one”?

“Okay, what the hell is wrong with you?”

Jolting out of his own thoughts, Jean frowns. “What?”

Jean gets a frown right back. “You’ve been staring at me for the last twenty minutes.”

“Oh,” Jean says, shifting uncomfortably in place. “You look really familiar.” The guy – Eren, Jean's pretty sure that's what his name was – scowls. “I mean, really familiar,” Jean continues, pushing himself up from where he had been leaning against the corner of the crowded restaurant. He had had a lot of time to stare at Eren's face when they were waiting, one of those bulky plastic buzzers clutched in his hand. “Have we met somewhere before?”

“No,” Eren says. He doesn't seem particularly happy, but Jean thinks he can put that up to the fact that they had been waiting for a frankly ridiculous amount of time.

Jean shrugs. He's not having the best time either, but at least he's not acting like a grumpy asshole. “Do you wanna go somewhere else?”

Eren scowls. “No,” he says. “We've already been here for like twenty minutes.”

Jean glances at his phone. “Thirty.”

Eren taps his foot against the floor. It echoes with a dull, wooden thud. “Well they've got to seat us sometime soon, then.”

Currently, the two of them are shoved in a corner of the restaurant's foyer with about fifteen other people, and Jean would be surprised if there was a single person who wasn't grumbling about the long wait. Some strange wall fixture is jamming into his back. It feels kind of like a stray nail to him, but Jean doesn't necessarily have the space or the motivation to twist around to look, nor does he have any earthly idea why a nail would be hanging out this far into the corner.

“Maybe,” Jean says. He examines the curve of Eren's nose and the particular shade of green his eyes are. They're a kind of greenish-blue, actually, like the color of the sea, or that vodka that's colored to look like the galaxy. “Are you sure we haven't met before?”

Eren stares at him, arms crossed. “Yeah.”

Jean hums.

“I mean, it's been thirty minutes, we've got be at the front of the list by now!” Eren says. They both watch as the buzzer belonging to the couple on their left goes of with a fanfare of blue and yellow lights and shakes with an intensity that would probably put most vibrators on the market to shame. “Okay, now we're probably on the top of the list.”

Jean slumps back into his uncomfortable corner. This is the worst blind date he thinks he's ever been on.

“We could just go somewhere else."

“It's Saturday night; everywhere else is probably just as busy as this place," Eren replies.

Jean takes it back. He thinks this is the worst date he's ever been on period.

He presses a couple of fingers into one of his temples. “Why didn't you just make a reservation?” he grumbles.  
Eren turns to him with mouth slightly agape. In retrospect, Jean realizes that may not have been considered proper first date etiquette. Or any kind of etiquette, really. “Why didn't I make a reservation!?”

Jean swallows.

“Who the hell makes a reservation at a Mexican restaurant!?” Eren is yelling loud enough to draw attention from a few bystanders and one of the waitstaff. Excellent. “And you – why the hell didn't you make a reservation if you wanted one so badly?!”

“I didn't think the wait was gonna be this long!” Jean shouts back, just as loudly. If he's going to wreck his date he might as well go all-out.

Eren throws his hands into the air, missing a passing waitress' face by a fraction of an inch. Jean waits for him to apologize, but judging by the way he doesn't even flinch, it looks like Eren hadn't noticed at all. “Then how the fuck was I supposed to know!”

“I don't know, it was just an offhand comment!” Jean shouts. He is so hungry, Eren is a loud asshole, and Jean still can't figure out where he's seen the guy before, if he ever has. And the weird nail is still digging into his back. Irritants pile on one after another.

“What kind of asshole – “ Eren starts, but cuts himself off when their buzzer goes off with a headache-inducing little festival of light, vibrating loudly against Jean's palm. Jean jumps in surprise, setting him even farther off-guard for when Eren snatches the little plastic triangle from him and storms off towards the hostess without even finishing his sentence.

“What the fuck,” Jean says. It's mostly to himself, but without thinking too much about it he looks at the man standing a foot or two away from him while he says it. The guy gives him a flat look back.

Jean takes off through the crowd of people after Eren. He hadn't even finished his thought.

–

“I'm not an asshole,” Jean says while he stuffs his mouth full of chips. “I'm actually a pretty cool dude.”

Eren doesn't dignify that statement with a pertinent response other than to give Eren a flat, disinterested look. “Why are we still on this date.” It doesn't sound so much like a question as an accusation hurled deadpan at the universe.

Jean blinks. “I'm hungry,” he says, then points a chip at Eren. “You're hungry.” He shoves the chip in his mouth. “You stormed with the fucking buzzer before anybody said anything about going home." Eren continues to give him a flat look. "And I still can't figure out where I've seen you before.”

“You haven't,” Eren says, slouching onto the table.

“I totally have!” Jean says. He squints. “Have you ever been on TV?”

“Not since, like, 2007,” Eren says. “Wrestling tournament.”

Jean waves him off. “That's not it,” he says.

Eren frowns, munching on a chip. “You're not even trying to save this date, are you?”

Jean raises his eyebrows. “Could I save it?”

“Probably not,” Eren says. “You're kind of a dick.”

“I'm not a dick,” Jean says. Eren gives him a look – not so much a “really?” and more of a, “do you yourself actually fucking believe that?” – and Jean capitulates. “I'm kind of a dick.”

Eren nods, looking rather self-satisfied, which just grates on Jean's nerves.

“You're a dick too, though.”

“How the fuck have I been a dick to you?”

Jean opens his mouth, then closes it. “You yell a lot.”

“You've known me for like an hour!” Eren snaps.

In his head, Jean has to suppress the urge to correct him by saying it has probably been closer to forty-five. Instead, he says, “You're yelling right now!”

“So are you!” Eren yells right back, slamming his fists against the table. It's then that Jean notices that Eren has risen out of his seat to lean in, hovering over Jean. This close Jean can see the spattering of barely-there freckles over his cheeks and the precise shade of his lips, and he can feel the memory itching in the back of his mind, like –

Someone coughs quietly from the side of the table. “Uh, are you two...ready to order?”

Eren collapses back down in his seat.

–

As soon as the waitress has her back turned, both of their menus safely in hand, Eren crosses his arms and snaps, “You're a dick.”

Jean scoffs. “I have a big – “

And then it hits him.

Jean slaps a hand over his mouth. He remembers where he'd met Eren before.

“Okay, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jean can feel the heat radiating off his face. “I figured out where I met you.”

“I haven't met you before.”

Jean has the acutely unique experience of being both horribly embarrassed and wanting very desperately to make himself more embarrassed in order to prove Eren wrong. “You went down on me in the bathroom of a nightclub a couple months ago.” Not something he was particularly proud of, but --

Eren stops, staring at him. “Oh,” he says. For a second Jean thinks that the glimmer in his eye is recognition, but finds himself drastically mistaken when Eren follows it up with, “Maybe. Which one?"

Jean's jaw drops. “Which one? How many people do you fuck in public bathrooms?”

Eren shrugs. “I dunno.”

“Oh my god,” Jean says, resting his head in his hands, then slamming a hand on the table. “You don't actually remember me, do you?”

Eren pauses, shoving another chip in his mouth. “Was it the club on twenty-first?”

“Thirty-second.”

“That could work,” Eren says.

“You're disgusting,” Jean replies.

“You're a dick.” Eren frowns. “And judgemental.”

“You can’t remember which guy I was that you gave a blowjob in a public bathroom.”

Eren pauses. “Were you the guy whose dick, like -- “ he makes a motion that looks mostly like a sperm swimming to Jean.

“What?”

“Like -- bent to the left."

“I mean -- “ Jean glances down at his crotch, and then back up. “I guess?”

“No, like, really far to the left.”

“Uh,” Jean hesitates. “I dunno, not that far….”

Eren gives him a quizzical look. “If I remember correctly -- “

“You can’t remember shit!” Jean shouts.

Against Jean’s expectations, Eren leans back in his side of the booth, toes nudging against Jean’s. A self-satisfied smile splits his face, and Jean desperately wishes they weren’t totally out of chips so he had something to do with his hands as he remembers exactly why he had let a total stranger blow him in a bathroom: he was hot as all fuck. “You do remember how good I was, though, don’t you?”

Jean furrows his eyebrows. “Are you hitting on me?”

The expression drops of his face like grossly melting plastic. “We’re on a date!”

“Not a good one,” Jean grumbles.

“So I can’t hit on you?”

Jean throws a hand up in the air, nearly hitting one of the weird scrap metal art pieces hanging from the walls. “Why would you want to?” he asks. “I’m an asshole!”

Eren crosses his arms. “Ten minutes ago you were a ‘great guy’.”

“I mean, yeah,” Jean says, peering suspiciously at the now-empty basket that had previously held tortilla chips. “But I’m also an asshole.”

Eren hums. “I can definitely see the latter.”

Jean narrows his eyes. “Dick.”

They fall into a comfortable silence after a few moments. Jean toys with his straw while Eren stares aggressively at a weird clock-looking thing on the wall. He had looked a lot like that when they were waiting, too -- Jean wonders if he’s actually displeased or if ‘anger’ just happens to be his default expression.

Without much thought, Jean pulls his foot back and kicks Eren under the table.

Eren jumps more in surprise than in pain; Jean hadn’t kicked him that hard. His jaw drops as he turns back to face Jean, who can’t help but grin a little bit. “What the hell!” Eren exclaims. He’s louder than normal, but not loud enough to be heard over the near-deafening din. “Are you nine?” he asks in the same breath that he kicks Jean right back.

“Shit!” Jean’s leg jerks, his knee colliding with the bottom of the table. “What the fuck?”

“That’s exactly what you just did!”

"I didn't hit you nearly that hard," Jean says, rubbing at his knee. Over Eren's shoulder, Jean catches the eye of an irritated-looking woman who turns to give the two of them a look that isn't quite judging, but at the very least questioning, and swallows. "A-Anyway, we're adults, we should act like it.”

“You literally started this. This is your fault.” Eren emphasizes those last few words with another quickly-dealt kick to the shin.

Jean makes a noise that sounds surprisingly like something that might come out of a dog, or perhaps a small child. “What the hell!” Jean snaps. He kicks back just as hard, managing to clip Eren in the knee with the toe of his sneaker.

Unfortunately, Eren doesn’t make any embarrassing noises, just takes a sharp breath in and quietly mutters, “Ow.”

“You’re a dick,” Jean hisses, leaning over the table. He grips the edge with a tenacity that turns his knuckles nearly white.

“Not as big a dick as you,” Eren throws back as he, once again, kicks Jean under the table.

With a decided lack of forethought, Jean mumbles by way of defense, “I have a big dick.” He tries to kick Eren, but instead of making contact with his shin finds his toes crushed against the wooden panel just behind.

Eren doesn’t seem to notice. “I’ve seen your dick, that doesn’t -- “

“You don’t remember my dick!” Jean shouts. It’s much too loud for the venue, he realizes immediately after he does, but fortunately his words seem to be lost below the ruckus, because no one turns to give him a nasty look.

Eren leans back, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I’m pretty sure I do,” he says. Jean ignores the vague feeling of offense he gets from that statement -- the guy remembers his dick but not his face? -- but then Eren smirks, and his lips curve up in a way that makes Jean remember why exactly he had let the guy suck his dick in a public bathroom. “It wasn’t that big.”

Jean sputters. “My dick is plenty big,” he says. Unwittingly, he feels his face flush. “You weren’t that great at giving head!” Which is a bald-faced lie -- even Jean can’t rationalize that Eren was bad at sucking dick. If asked, Jean would rather make excuses about alcohol and the unreliable nature of memory than say it was the best head he’d ever received, but -- it probably way.

A confident little half-smile works its way across Eren’s mouth as he leans in closer to Jean. “That’s a lie,” he says, and it’s not like he’s guessing but like he knows, all self-assured. Eren leans in even closer, and Jean gets to see the spark in his eyes -- it’s almost exactly the same as the way Eren had lit up when Jean pissed him off, but just a little off, a little more alive. It’s hot as fuck. “I bet I’m better at giving head than you and that my dick is bigger.”

Jean processes the next few seconds as him taking a second to snap out of that line of thought -- but in reality it’s quite possible he didn’t escape at all, because the next words that come out of his mouth are, “Is that a challenge?”

Eren grins, his lips splitting into a full-faced grin. Jean finds himself acutely distracted by the way Eren’s Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “Yes.”

Jean feels his mouth go dry. “Uhm,” he says. It occurs to him that if he wants to pretend to not be a drooling idiot he’ll probably wanna say something at least somewhat intelligent -- “I know I can suck dick better than you.”

Jean doesn’t actually know if he can. But he’s not going to pass up the opportunity to try.

“You’re on,” Eren says. Some kind of excitement bubbles low in Jean’s stomach as the corners of Eren’s lips turn up into a smile that just fucking radiates sex -- Jean wonders how he manages that -- while Jean tries to stop the blush on his cheeks from spreading to the rest of his face and down his neck.

Jean’s not sure how well his succeeds, but regardless, he grins.

From off to his left, Jean notices the sound of heels on tile. “Uh,” the waitress says from the end of the table. Jean turns his gaze her way: he hadn’t even realized she had been standing there, holding two plates with steam rising off.

The upholstery squeaks as Eren leans back to his side of the table. It isn’t until he backs off that Jean realizes how far they had both been leaning forward. Covering with a cough, Jean leans back and points at the waitress. “We’re going to eat first though, right?”

Eren rolls his eyes. “Duh.”

-

It's not until a couple hours later that Eren finds himself staring at the ceiling of Jean's place, legs tangled up in the sheets and Jean drooling on Eren's shoulder in his sleep.  The guy's a dick, Eren reminds himself, but he does have at least a few things going for him -- Eren's not entirely sure Jean  _won_ the dick-sucking contest, but he would be lying if he said the guy didn't hold his own.

And that, at the very least, is something Eren can admire.


End file.
